


some things never forgotten

by thenightpainter



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Events of five years earlier, Excessive Drinking, M/M, Unresolved Tension, and neither can quite forget about it, implied but strategically avoided porn, in which flint and vane had a drunken night together, possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenightpainter/pseuds/thenightpainter
Summary: Sitting in Eleanor’s office, Captains Vane and Flint think back to a particular drunken night many years ago, knowing the other must be thinking of it too. Perhaps, one of them regretting it more than the other.





	some things never forgotten

It had been nearly five and a half years since it happened, the night that Flint had never told another living soul about. Well, except Miranda, but he explicitly stated that he didn’t want to ever discuss it again, and they never did. Regret wasn’t exactly the word Flint would use, it was unfortunate and more complicated than that, but he certainly regretted the company involved. Flint had vowed never to get that drunk again.

Now Flint sat across the room from that man, who yet again put forward a plan to conspire against him and was involved in the killing of several of his men. It made Flint wonder, of all the ways Charles Vane tried to ruin him, why had he not told anyone about that night?  

Instead he know sat smoking a cigarillo, boots up on the table, staring back at Flint. A half smile across his face, knowing full well what must be on Flint’s mind.

_They’d taken a prize and he should be celebrating, but it was three years since Miranda gave him that letter, since he had lost all hope and had to change everything, and Flint was completely intent on drinking himself until he could forget. Eleanor left him there, remembering the original incident that happened years ago, never asking about the details, offering him a room to stay if he didn’t want to make it back to the ship._  

_He was alone there until Charles Vane, the new up and coming captain had come in to join him. Flint had bumped into him quite a bit, Blackbeard protege, stubborn as hell, no respect for those that came before him and made Nassau what it was. Eleanor Guthrie says he’s in love with her, but Flint wondered that perhaps if it wasn’t for that relationship he’d have been kicked out of here with Blackbeard. Now, it seemed they were in the middle of one of their notorious falling-outs, each running off to their corner to drink._

_“Good evening, Captain,” Vane said, walking up to Flint._

_Flint just nodded in response._

_“I take it congratulations are in order,” he continued. Why won’t he just fuck off, Flint thought._

_Vane poured himself a drink. “Mind if I join you?”_

_Yes, very much_ _. Flint doesn’t respond, but Vane sits across from him anyway. _

_“What do you want?” he asks, after several moments of silence._

_“Nothing, why can’t two captains just sit and drink, discuss our latest hauls? Somehow, it doesn’t seem like you’re in a very celebratory mood.” His tone was somewhat mocking._

_Flint wasn’t in the mood for this, not tonight. In part he feared that if he started talking, thinking too much, he’d start weeping. Charles Vane was the last person Flint wanted to witness that._

_“Well, good evening to you,” he said, standing up to leave and go to one of the rooms Eleanor had offered him. Flint took the rest of the bottle with him._

_He noticed that Vane had followed him. Flint was certainly not in the mood for a fight, and was certainly too drunk to deal with this._

_Flint stopped in the doorway, setting the bottle down on the ledge, trying to gather himself. He heard Vane walk up behind him, he was at least equally as drunk as Flint, his footsteps were evidence enough of that._

_Once Vane was close enough Flint turned around, grabbing him be his shoulders pushing him against the wall. Vane let out a grunt, not quite expecting it._  

_“I’ll ask again, what the fuck do you want?” Flint growled._

_Vane just smiled back at him, not trying to fight him off. “What do you want, Flint? Because I think that’s more interesting.”_

_God, how irritating he was. Flint stared him in the eye, certainly not expecting what Vane did next. He leaned forward quickly, kissing Flint on the lips. Flint pulled back confused, unable to determine Vane’s motivations._

_He was way too drunk for this. Flint knew this was a bad idea, this would not go down well for him, or for Eleanor, if she ever found out. And yet, Flint was far too drunk to think this out clearly,  it seemed like a good idea at the time._

_He pushed Vane back up again the wall, holding him there with his whole body and an arm against his chest. Flint brought his other hand to the back of Vane’s head, finger digging through his hair, pulling him forward into a deep kiss. The other captain tastes like tobacco and rum and is far rougher than Flint normally liked, but it felt just like what he needed then. He hadn’t kissed another man since - no, Flint pushed that thought out of his head._

_After a moment Flint had let go of his hold on Vane, just enough for other man to take the opportunity to grab hold of Flint and push him against the doorway on the other side of the hall. The kisses continued, Vane’s strong hands pressing against his ribs. One hand moved to his hip, holding him in place._

_They finally made it into the room, Flint practically ripping the shirt of Vane. They both dropped their belts, weapons crashed against the ground. Flint pulled off his own shirt and Vane grabbed hold of his shoulders, throwing him down into the bed, soon climbing on top of him. Vane leaned down to kiss him again, hands running through his hair._

~~~~~ 

Vane sat there, staring at the other captain with rage in his eye under that furrowed brow. His eyes so focused, that anger directed at Vane. The man always frustrated Vane, he could never quite figure it out, what exactly it was that made him tick. Even after nine years, he managed to still surprise him, although Vane would never admit it. Now it seemed that he was practically unkillable. It pleased Vane to know that there was one thing that he held over Flint, something he knew upset him, and that he was reminded of it every time he saw Vane. For a time Vane wondered if it wouldn’t be a one night thing, if he could seek out Flint again, but to his dismay, the other captain had avoided him by all means for the following week.

He knew that Flint was thinking of that night at that very moment. They had both been drunk and Vane had wanted to test a theory. Although, he wasn’t as drunk as he seemed, Vane had only started drinking that night before he ran into Flint, and was several drinks behind the other man.

_Kissing Flint was not at all what he had expected. Vane half expected he’d get himself a punch in the face. He certainly was forcefully at first, and sloppy, tasting of rum, but after a some time he just let go. Perhaps he was too tired, or too drunk but Vane could never forget how soft he became. That feeling of Flint’s hands against his skin, pulling him in, the way that Flint leaned into Vane’s every touch._

_Vane hadn’t expected it to get that far once they had made it into the room, throwing their clothes left and right. Vane pushed Flint down on the bed, still expecting the other man to start fighting him or throw him out at any moment, yet it never happened. Instead, Flint reached out to him, pulling him in closer._

_He leaned over Flint, who lay on the bed underneath him. He was magnificent really, built much like Vane with broad shoulders, and completely covered in freckles. Some part of him just wanted to pause and admire him._

~~~~~

It was one of the many things that often bothered Flint. Why hasn’t Vane told anyone? He’s had countless opportunities over the years, and it wasn’t like nobody would believe him. Flint’s interest in men wasn’t exactly a closely guarded secret among crew members that paid close attention, but it could certainly give Captain Vane something to boast about, how he _fucked_ the fearsome Captain Flint. He had wondered if Vane was saving that information for a particular opportunity, but now so much time has passed, and he hadn’t told anyone, it would have next to no effect now. Yet, the _why_ still bothered him. Perhaps that was his plan all along, to let it bother Flint every time they spoke, and yet he didn’t think Vane could come up with such a scheme.  

_Flint woke just as the sun was coming up, with a splitting headache. He’d barely moved from where he last remembered being, he looked over to see Charles Vane beside him, snoring softly, confirming that this hadn’t been some sort of strange dream._

_He sat up, running a hand through his hair, remembering it had come undone part way through the night. He tried looking around him, but couldn’t find his hair tie. Flint realized he was completely naked. He stood, quietly gathering his clothing._

_Flint heard Vane stirring as he put on his boots, but Flint was not about to talk to him. Once he was dressed and looked at least somewhat presentable, Flint slipped out without a word, taking the bottle which he had left on the ledge with him._  

_He’d be certain to leave some money for Eleanor later for the room, but for now he had to see Miranda. He knew he should have just gone to see her the night before instead, he couldn’t imagine she was handling the anniversary particularly well either._


End file.
